


Forever is a Long Time

by Ayre_You_There



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Coming Out, Connor Murphy Lives (Dear Evan Hansen), Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, M/M, Suicide Attempt, Treebros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22505941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayre_You_There/pseuds/Ayre_You_There
Summary: Connor didn't accidentally see Evan's paper printing and bring it to him. The truth is he's gay, and somewhere in the back of his mind he thought maybe Evan would understand. So he sought him out at the computer lab, but all of his hopes were crushed when saw Evan's feelings for Zoe, and he storms away hurt and angry.But that night, Connor isn't as alone as he thought he was. Someone was there to find him, and to help him when he needed it most.
Relationships: Evan Hansen & Connor Murphy, Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy
Kudos: 37





	Forever is a Long Time

**Author's Note:**

> As far as anyone knew, Connor Murphy never apologized. He never went out of his way for anyone. So why on earth is he here, in the computer lab, going out of his way to find this kid in the blue polo just trying to apologize for shoving him?
> 
> It was the same reason he smoked so much. The same reason he avoided his parents like the plague. The same reason he pushed his sister away. The same reason he had no friends.
> 
> It was something he couldn't share. He couldn't give them a reason to stare, couldn't let them see what's really there.
> 
> Evan Hansen was the first person he thought might understand that.
> 
> Author's Notes: We never really get to see into Connor's psyche, the reasons for doing what he does. In some ways, he and Evan are really so similar: hiding from the world, slipping away to avoid slipping up, never letting anyone see who they really are or what they really feel. Evan could so easily have ended up like Connor; the only difference was that Connor succeed where Evan failed. So this is a story where he doesn't. Like Evan's, Connor's suicide attempt is unsuccessful, and afterward Evan catches a real glimpse into Connor's life and mind.
> 
> The title (but not much of the rest of the story) is loosely based on John Mackey's "Songs from the End of the World," the lyrics of which include "Forever is a long time to be alone..."

_Freak._

The word hit Connor's ears like a slap in the face. He didn't let most words hurt him like that, but that one...it stung. Not like a bee; more like one of those stupid fucking ground wasps you accidentally step on that make you think you just drove a knife through your foot, one that burns long after the stinger comes out and the memory aches for ages. Fuck those things. Fuck that word. And fuck this fucking fuckface who just said it.

By the time he shook off the shock, the fucker had left. He turned to the other boy, fuckface's friend in the blue polo. He knew this boy, and he knew how shy and anxious he was, but that little chuckle he made--albeit, more of an uncomfortable cough than a laugh--pushed Connor over the edge. He couldn't help himself. The wave of anger that hit him overwhelmed the weed that Connor used to keep it down. He saw the weakness on the boy's face and he attacked it, yelling until he saw the shimmer of tears. 

"What the fuck are you laughing at?!"

"What-"

"Stop fucking laughing at me!"

"I'm not, I mean, I didn't mean-"

"You think I'm a freak?!"

"No, I don't-"

"I'm NOT the freak!"

"But I wasn't-"

"YOU'RE THE FUCKING FREAK!"

Connor knew the moment he shoved that skinny boy in the polo to the ground that he'd gone too far, but he didn't know how to stop himself. He felt like a tourist in one of those stupid video games where you build your own roller coaster, and some dumbass had built an unfinished ramp launching everyone off the coaster, laughing as all the virtual guests plummeted to their deaths. He knew he'd taken his anger out on the wrong person: Fuckface No. 1 had built the ramp; Blue Polo had just made the mistake of laughing at the wrong time. Oh well. It was too late now. Connor knew the routine; this wasn't the first time he'd done something like this. He would sulk about it all day in class, skip his last class to go the computer lab and Google random funny shit to make himself feel better. Then after school he'd smoke for a bit until he made his way home, and if he needed something stronger to make himself forget more thoroughly, he had what he needed at home.

But that isn't what happened this time. Somehow Connor's feet didn't take him to class. He couldn't today. He'd known from the moment he woke up that he couldn't do class today. He'd tried to tell his mom, but naturally Cynthia wouldn't listen. Larry wouldn't even pretend to listen. But today he couldn't. Teachers and students and struggling with assignments and the judgment of his peers and the judgement of his teachers and now the added judgment of anyone who knew what he'd just done...he couldn't. Not now. Not today. Anything but the judgement.

So he didn't go to class. He just went to the bathroom. He just hid in the stall. Hiding from the judgment. No one could stare at him here. No one could see. He had nothing to say to anyone.

It didn't work. Hiding didn't stop the judgment. He judged himself, and nothing could stop the onrush of shame pouring over him now. Here he was, hiding in a bathroom stall, a sum of broken parts desperately wishing to be something more than the mess that he was. 

And he cried.

And cried.

Hours went by, but he couldn't stop. People came in, people left; he wasn't sure. He didn't care. It was all just too much. The worst part wasn't even _what_ he'd done: it was _who_ he'd hurt. His parents, his sister...fuck, she hated him. He didn't hate her. He loved her. But he couldn't talk to her. He couldn't let her see him, not who he really was. Not this broken mess sobbing in a public bathroom thinking about how much he hurt her, ashamed of how much he probably hurt Evan...

Evan.

Evan Hansen.

 _God, how could I have shoved Evan like that?!_ Connor wasn't proud of most things he'd done in the last few years, but this. That. Evan was already in a cast. He was literally _already_ hurt. How could Connor hurt him more? Shame shook him like a kick to the gut. He'd known Evan for years. How is it _possible_ that they'd never spoken in all that time? No wonder he had no friends.

Connor had no idea what had happened to the day, but as he dragged on a joint to try and calm himself down (admittedly, it wasn't the first time he smoked in this stall), he heard the final bell ring. _Okay, time to get your shit together, Connor._ He slowly gathered himself and headed down to the computer lab: he'd killed his phone battery in the stall and he really needed something stupid to laugh at. His sister wouldn't wait for him, but he didn't care. He could walk. She'd probably rather drive home without him anyway, so really he was doing something nice. Not that his parents would see it that way. They would berate him again. _"Connor, why didn't you at least text Zoe that you weren't going to ride with her? That's so rude!"_ and yada yada yada. Maybe he'd get lucky and they'd be out to some gala or fundraiser tonight and he wouldn't have to deal with them. 

As he dropped his back and flopped into a chair, Connor heard a familiar voice. A quiet and hesitant voice. High pitched. Cracking under the crushing weight of anxiety.

"Yeah, no, I already finished it. I'm in the computer lab now, printing it out."

Evan was on the phone; from behind his computer, Connor could see him sitting at an empty desk on the other side of the lab with his laptop. He couldn't suppress a chuckle at that obvious lie, but he didn't think Evan heard him. Connor had told the same lie to his own parents a lot lately.

"It was...yeah, it was really great."

Another lie. Obvious. Another lie Connor often told.

"Bye."

 _Wow he's more like me than I thought._ Each word he heard left Connor feeling more and more guilty. The more he watched, the more he related to him. The lies, the fake smiles, Connor had done them all. Well, not the fake smiles so much lately. Those are exhausting after a while. Evan would probably get to that point too. He'd get there a lot sooner if Connor kept shoving him to the ground. He cringed at his own thoughts, still ashamed of himself. But what could he do now? Connor couldn't even see _how_ he could be nicer to a boy like Evan. The moment he was, everyone would think he was gay.

_Gay._

Another word that hit like a punch, even when it's only said in his own mind.

Gay. Freak. Those two words made him wince at the sound. They were basically the same thing, anyway, so it made sense. No they weren't. That was a lie. He knew they weren't the same thing.

The problem was that one always led to the other. Gay. Freak. Gay Freak. Connor was both.

The problem was that Connor knew he was gay; everyone else knew Connor was a freak. How could he possibly tell any of them that he was gay? He could just imagine his parents if they found out. After all the years his dad spent coaching his sports, he'd never understood how it was even possible that Connor could care so little. After the enormous variety of therapies his mother had forced him to try over the years, surely conversion therapy would be the next. And his sister...After that time in middle school when Zoe had painted his nails indigo or violet or some such pretentious shade of purple, after all the mocking he'd endured as a result...black was the only color he'd dared since. Even worse, at the time he had blamed Zoe; he'd screamed and yelled and cried, accused her of doing it on purpose just to embarrass him. They'd barely spoken since. How could he even begin to go back on that? Was it even possible to make amends for that? He couldn't. And he definitely couldn't be gay. But maybe he could be nicer to Evan Hansen.

The obnoxious beeping of the printer interrupted his thoughts. He quickly turned around, surprised by its annoying loud grind. A single page came out with three words at the top, clear as day: "Dear Evan Hansen." Without bothering to think it through, Connor grabbed the page and headed to the other side of the lab. If nothing else maybe bringing him this silly piece of paper could be _one_ nice thing Connor could do for Evan. It wasn't much of an apology--Connor was terrible at those--but maybe this tiny modicum of kindness could...he didn't know. 

The moment he got to Evan's side, he paused. He debated aborting the mission. It felt so awkward, he felt so weird. He _wanted_ to be nice, but just a few hours ago he'd been so mean...he wasn't sure how to do this. He could just hand over the paper and leave, but wouldn't that be more awkward? Evan's face turned to face his after a moment, and Connor almost broke down again. Evan's expression was pure terror, and it was Connor's fault. The boy was so afraid, terrified the moment he _saw_ Connor.

Failing to think of anything better to ask, and not wanting to keep the panicking boy in front of him in unnecessary suspense, Connor said the first thing he could think of.

"So. What happened to your arm?"

"Oh, I um..." Connor could see the anxiety on Evan's face. It was kind of adorable, but he wiped the thought away. "I fell out of a tree actually," Evan finished with a slight grimace.

Connor couldn't stifle a small laugh. "You fell out of a tree? That is just the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard. Oh my God." It was typical of his usual mocking, moderately offensive jokes, but Connor regretted it a little. Here he was just trying to be nice and failing. _Ugh, WHY is this shit so fucking hard?!_

Evan's fake laugh stung a bit, even if it was a little bit cute. "I know," he replied awkwardly.

Connor looked at Evan's arm and frowned. It did seem like Evan was a nice guy--certainly, he was better at being nice than Connor was! Why hadn't anyone signed his cast? Yeah, he was a shy kid but still...Connor often wondered if he'd have more friends if he just acted a little bit nicer. Evan clearly acted a lot nicer; why didn't he have any friends? What about that Fuckface No. 1 who'd called Connor a freak this morning? Some part of Connor was glad the two weren't friends, but it had looked like the two were somewhat close. But nope, no signature. Not one.

"No one's signed your cast."

Evan sighed, but tried to play it off casually. "No, I know."

"I'll sign it." Connor didn't know why the words came out of his mouth. He felt like that girl in that movie his sister loved, the one who yelled _"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!"_ Still, he felt just a tiny bit excited at the prospect of signing Evan's cast. It wasn't like the two were friends. Hell, it wasn't even like the two would _ever_ be friends, probably. But in the very back of Connor's mind, past the dark corners, there was the _one_ _tiny_ thought saying _"Maybe. Just maybe."_ Not that Connor was even remotely close to telling Evan _anything_ about himself, but if he _did,_ Evan seemed like he just might be the type of person who would understand, at least a little. More than his parents or his sister would ever even try to understand.

"Oh. Um..." Connor's hope waned a little at Evan's hesitation. "You don't have to."

Connor pressed just a little. He knew he shouldn't; he was trying to be nice, but he just couldn't stop himself. "Do you have a Sharpie?" He breathed a sigh a relief when Evan reached into his backpack and pulled one out. He took it and signed, far too big he knew, but he just couldn't help it. Again. He felt a modicum of pride being the first to sign, and à la John Hancock, overdid it a bit. It wasn't _totally_ malicious...although Connor knew he could tease Evan for it later if he had to, if people started talking.

"Oh. Great. Thanks." Evan didn't sound thrilled.

Connor handed the marker back. "Now we can both pretend to have friends," he replied dryly. There, that was a better joke. Self-deprecating and still mildly insulting. 

Evan shrugged, conceding to the logic. "Good point." He took the marker and stuffed it in his back, hurrying up and scurrying towards the door. Connor stepped in front instinctively, stopping him.

"Wait, is this yours? I found it on the printer. 'Dear Evan Hansen,' that's your name, right?"

Evan fumbled for an explanation. "Oh, that, that's just a stupid, it's a paper I had to write for a, um, for an assignment..."

Connor, ever impulsive, once yet again couldn't help himself. He looked down at the paper and quickly skimmed. His eyes darted to a familiar name. "Because there's Zoe...is this about my sister?"

Connor's heart sank. What little confidence he'd had (or, rather, what confidence he'd been faking) plummeted. He wasn't even sure why. It's not like he was hoping to date Evan. It's not like he had 'feelings' for Evan. Hell, it's not like he even _knew_ Evan. He wasn't delusional; he wasn't under some misguided Disney belief that anything was going to happen between him and Evan, but this...his sister. His _sister?!_ Zoe, really? Evan was into Zoe? It just hurt. The sudden realization that nothing _could_ ever happen between him and Evan hit him hard. Evan wasn't gay, not that Connor had been expecting him to be. Still, Connor had been wrong about his potentially new pretend friend: Evan didn't understand him; Evan wouldn't ever understand him. Evan _couldn't_ ever understand. 

Evan looked panicked. "No, not at all-"

Connor didn't believe him. Another obvious lie; Connor was a pro at spotting them. "You wrote this because you knew I would find it."

"What?" Evan started to shake from anxiety. Connor noticed, but he didn't care. Anger was sinking into his gut and a lump formed in his throat.

"You saw that I was the only other person in the computer lab, so you wrote this and you printed it out, so that I would find it." He knew the story read like a bad high school conspiracy theory, but he couldn't seem to stop his mouth. Or his brain. His thoughts were just racing around in circles and words were spewing out of his mouth beyond his control. It was taking all of Connor's energy just to keep some control over his fists this time.

Evan was growing paler. "Why-" he sniffled, "-would I do that?"

"So I would read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister and freak out right? And then you can tell everyone that I'm crazy, right?" Connor knew it was a stupid idea. He knew it. But it did leave him one semblance of hope...maybe Evan was just trying to get back at Connor for being mean to him? Maybe he really was trying to make Connor look like a freak in front of the whole school? Or maybe, _just maybe_ Evan was trying to make Connor jealous? He knew all of these were ridiculous, but any of them could mean just maybe Evan wasn't _actually_ in love with Zoe...

Evan fumbled for words, shaking with terror Connor had caused. "No, wait, I don't even...what?"

"Fuck you." For the second time today, Connor knew he'd gone too far. Way too far, and with the same person. He didn't know how his emotions get so out of control. Maybe it was whatever the fuck medication his new therapist had suggested and his mother had insisted he take. Who knows? All Connor knew was that he was thoroughly confused, and he was pretty sure he'd thoroughly confused Evan. Oh well. If Evan was trying to get back at him, Connor deserved it. If Evan was trying to make Connor look like a freak, then fuck him. If Evan was in love with Zoe...fuck, that one hurt the most and Connor couldn't look at either one of them. But if, if and only if Evan was just trying to make Connor jealous...well then his plan worked, Connor supposed.

In any case, Evan would have to come after him if he wanted his stupid fucking paper back. Connor heard him calling after him, begging for him to give it back, but he kept walking away. Running away from people and problems was something Connor was good at. If Evan wanted his "assignment" that badly, he could come get it.


End file.
